Dark Day In Sherwood
by White Wolf1
Summary: This is the sequel to my story The Choice, which should be read first. NOTE: Some reviews contain spoilers.


(I don't own the TV characters. No profit, just entertainment.)

Author's Note: This story is the sequel to "The Choice". Those who haven't read that one first should do so to better understand this one.

DARK DAY IN SHERWOOD

by White Wolf

Prologue

The Fall Equinox was fast approaching, and Nasir was getting nervous. He vividly remembered the words of Havarta, the mysterious woman who had arrived in a mist to offer him and his friends a reward. It had been a disaster at the time and had taken a while for the deepest of the emotional wounds to heal. But, the band was now closer than ever. Everyone had rallied around Robin and worked hard to put the awful events surrounding Havarta's visit behind them.

Now, Havarta's words grabbed at the Saracen and wouldn't let go. When Will had asked the woman what the reward would have been had the group made Robin their choice, she had said that they wouldn't lose Robin the way they lost Loxley. No one else had caught the meaning behind the words. Nasir thought he had. They hadn't chosen Robin, so Nasir had concluded: Robin was going to be taken away from them. Would he leave Sherwood to return to Huntingdon? Would he be forced to go elsewhere to save his life? Would he die? 

Although Havarta never mentioned a particular time, somehow Nasir believed the Fall Equinox was when it was to happen. And, the reward they would have received to prevent it wouldn't be given. Were the recent happy times just a prelude, a calm before the storm? He could have heen wrong. He could have misinterpreted Havarta's words. He found himself pleading, 'Please, let it be so.' 

* * * * * * * * * * 

Robin stood in the outlaw camp talking and laughing with his friends about the robbery of a nobleman they had just pulled off. He was holding a cup of cider in his hand. Suddenly, he felt an impact against his back. It felt like someone had just hit him very hard with a club. Then, everything seemed to lapse into slow motion. The cup dropped from his hand and seemed to drift rather than fall normally. When it finally hit the ground, the contents splashed lazily over his boots. Slowly, ever so slowly, a stunned look spread across Robin's face, replacing the smile that had been there seconds before. He pitched forward. Will, who was standing next to him, grabbed him before he fell. 

The other outlaws had been looking at Robin as he told them something unintentially funny the nobleman had said and now their eyes widened in surprise. The arrow, embedded deeply n Robin's back, was a short bolt from a crossbow and didn't protrude but a few inches, so at first, no one but Will saw it. 

Nasir knew instantly this was what he had been fearing. As the others rushed to see what the trouble was, the Saracen grabbed his bow and nocked an arrow. He saw someone move in the underbrush nearby. He drew back and fired. There was a sharp cry and then a crash. Nasir nocked another arrow and swung his bow back and forth, searching quickly for signs that the shooter wasn't alone. There was no further movement. He threw the bow aside and rushed to where Will sat holding Robin.

The surprise on Robin's face had now been replaced with one of pain. His fists were clenched, and he was breathing hard, fighting against the searing pain that was radiating through his back and chest like a red hot poker.

Robin opened his eyes and looked at the men gathered around him. He tried to smile through the pain. He knew he had just been shot. He also knew he was going to die. Robin had something he wanted to tell his friends. With a great effort, he said, "I want to thank all of your for your loyalty and the support you've given me. You'll never know how much it's meant to me." 

"I'm sorry I caused you so much trouble," Will said contritely as he remembered all the stupid, useless arguments and hard times he had given Robin since the very first time they had met.

Robin shook his head. He held his hand up, and Will took it and grasped it tightly. "You were always there when it counted, Will. All of you were. I couldn't have asked for better friends."

Much, tears streaming down his face, said, "Please don't leave us, Robin." The idea that Robin wasn't in control of the situation never occurred to him. 

"I don't want to, Much, but I have no choice." The burning in Robin's back and chest was beginning to spread throughout his body. He felt the weakness and the cold gripping him in a tight embrace. He didn't know how much longer he could hold out.

"We won't make it without you," Much told him.

"Of course, you will. Have as much faith in yourselves as I have in you." After taking a deep breath, he said, "I hope you all find the happiness you deserve. Keep safe."

Just then, Marion, who had been down at the nearby stream filling a waterskin, returned to camp. When she saw that everyone had converged into a small group, she asked, "What's going on?" When Tuck moved to turn and look at her, she saw Robin in Will's arms. He was obviously in trouble. She dropped the waterskin and ran to him.

His eyes were open so she knew he was alive. "What happened?" she asked breathlessly. She dropped down beside them as her worry-filled eyes met Will's.

"Someone shot him from the trees," Will answered in a biting tone as he nodded in the direction the arrow had come from. "Nasir took him down," he assured her.

"Marion," Robin called weakly.

"Let me have him," Marion instructed Will. He carefully shifted Robin into her arms. "I'm here, Robin."

He looked up into her beautiful face and smiled. "I love you," he told her. He raised his hand and caressed her cheek, using his thumb to gently wipe away the tears that were beginning to spill down her face. He winced as pain washed over him again. When it subsided, he said, "Smile for me. It's the last thing in this life I want to see."

With the greatest of willpower, Marion gave Robin the sweetest smile she could manage. "I love you, too, Robin," she said softly. How tragically ironic that it was now, when he was dying, that she told him that for the first time. She leaned down and gave him a tender kiss. When she raised her head, his eyes were closed. His hand fell away from her face as his body went limp.

"No! No! _NOOO_!" 

In shock, she sat for a long time, stroking Robin's golden hair while her tears fell on his cheek. She brushed them away with her fingertips. She found the strength to lift him up and put his head on her shoulder. Holding him tightly, she began to rock back and forth. 

Watching the scene was almost like an intrusion. Though the other outlaws were mindful of Marion's grief, they were having to deal with grief of their own. John sat cross-legged in the grass with his head in his hands. Tuck sat behind him on a log, clutching his cross and staring at the ground. Much had walked over to a nearby tree and leaned against it, his shoulders heaving as he wept. Will paced, fury the only thing that kept the tears at bay. Nasir stood several feet away, gazing into the trees, both grief and guilt etched on his face. Why hadn't he prevented this? He knew. He _knew!_ He closed his eyes against the burning memory of Havarta's words. 

After what seemed like hours, John looked at Marion. She was still holding Robin and rocking back and forth. With a tremendous effort, he got up and walked over to them. He knelt down and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Marion, you have to let him go."

There was no response. Marion had her cheek down on Robin's head. Her eyes were closed, and she didn't open them. 

John tried again. "Marion." Still no response. He squeezed her shoulder and called her name louder. "Marion."

She looked up. "John." There was a faraway expression on her face. She looked down at Robin and smiled. "He fell asleep in my arms." The expression changed to concern when she put her hand on the side of his face. "He's so cold. John, get him a blanket. We have to warm him up before he starts shivering," she implored the big man.

John turned and looked at Tuck. He silently pleaded for help. Tuck understood. He got up and walked up behind the young woman. "Marion, come with me. Let John take care of Robin."

Marion smiled at both men. "All right. John, you won't forget to get him a blanket?"

"No," John whispered. "I won't forget."

Marion nodded and went with Tuck, who guided her to the stream and sat her down on a fallen tree. He wet a cloth in the cool water, handed it to her and told her to wipe her hands. 

When she regarded them, she had a puzzled look on her face. "Look. There's dried blood. I must have cut myself. I don't remember doing that." She cleaned her hands obediently and then gave the cloth back to Tuck, who handed her a fresh one and told her to wipe her face. She did so. 

Marion turned toward the stream and sat placidly watching two birds splashing at the edge of the bubbling water. The friar had no doubt that if he had told her to jump in the stream, she would have done it without question. He began to wonder if she had lost her hold on reality.

John picked Robin up and carried him to the edge of the camp. He laid him down on his side under a large oak tree. He got down on his knees, and using his own body as a shield from the others, pulled the arrow out of Robin's back, then gently turned him over. He carefully spread a blanket over him. John started to pull it up over Robin's face then hesitated. He couldn't do it. Crazy as it may be, it would somehow make what had happened too final. He tucked the blanket around Robin's shoulders instead. 

In a fit of rage, John took the arrow and broke it into little pieces. He flung them as far away from him as he could. He looked down at his bloodstained hands. Robin's lifeblood. The tears came then, and there was no attempt to stop them.

Marion hadn't said another word as she sat by the stream. Suddenly, as if waking up from a dream, she looked at Tuck. "Robin's dead, isn't he?"

Tuck confirmed the question with a nod. 

A low keening sound started in Marion's throat. The sound kept building until it erupted into a shattering scream. It seemed to echo around the forest in waves, and it tore at the outlaws' hearts. When it faded, Marion began rocking back and forth again, this time with her arms wrapped around herself. She sobbed quietly after that. 

Her mind was in turmoil. Beyond the grief was regret. Oh yes, there was plenty of regret. So much wasted time. The kind of love Robin had given her hadn't been returned. It was something she hadn't been sure she could ever honestly give him. After Havarta had left, Marion knew for sure Loxley was in her past, and she had turned to Robin and given in to the tug on her heart. She no longer fought falling in love with him as she had been doing since returning to Sherwood. 

Knowing the conflicting feelings she was dealing with, Robin had been so kind and patient with her. He had been willing to wait and let her sort out those feelings and come to him in her own time, which he fully believed she would eventually do. She hadn't been so sure. Then, it had happened. Why, oh why, hadn't she told him when the realization had hit her? 

It had been a day not too long ago. Marion was standing at the edge of the camp. Robin came and stood next to her. When she looked up and saw the love reflected in his bright blue eyes and his golden hair glowing like a halo in the dappled sunshine that filtered through the gently swaying leaves, she knew. It hit her like a thunderbolt. She loved this man with the purest kind of love her heart was cabable of. She was so taken aback by the almost physical blow of realization, she had turned and run. She should have taken him in her arms and told him how much she loved him. Instead, she had left him standing there, wondering what he had done to make her run away from him. 

The moment that should have been one of unbridled happiness, she had turned into one of confusion and hurt. When she returned to camp later that day, neither of them spoke of the incident. She refused to meet his gaze, rushing around, pretending to be busy with camp work. When she did steal a glance, the expression of love in Robin's eyes was mixed with sadness. Yet, she was too overwhelmed to act on the stirring in her heart. Robin hadn't brought up the subect of his love for her again. The time between then and now, short thought it was, could have--_should_ have--been glorious.

Now, he was gone. His beautiful smile stilled, his laughter forever silenced. Never again would his lips kiss hers. Never again would his sparkling blue eyes reflect the joy of sharing a warm summer day. She had just told him, as she held him in her arms, that she loved him. Had he died knowing she really meant that, or did he believe her words were only meant to comfort a dying man? Thinking the latter was probably the case added guilt to her already heavy burden of grief. Her love for him unspoken and unshared. It was all such a terrible waste.

Unbidden, Robin's name escaped her in a heart-rending moan, and then Marion collapsed in a heap on the ground. Tuck went to her and held her close.

"I've lost him, Tuck. Now, they've _both_ been taken from me." Marion looked up into the friar's sad eyes. "What am I to do?"

Tuck should know what to say at a time like this. He was a friar, a brother of the Church. But, what could he possibly say to this woman who had lost the two men she had loved. Both had wanted peace, yet both had been cruelly cut down by violence. His own broken heart clouded the soothing words of comfort he should have been able say to her. "Grieve and go on," was his solemn and much too inadequate reply.

Sherwood had always been a happy place for Marion. It was a life she had cherished. But, how could she go on living here now? How could she go on living at all? 'I should have died, too,' she inwardly wailed. Those dark thoughts twisted around in her brain. She buried her face in Tuck's shoulder, her tears staining his robe.

An hour later, John roused himself. He walked over to where Robin's pale, still form lay. A sharp pain stabbed at his heart as he looked down at his friend. John took a deep breath. He took the blanket that was lying on Robin and stretched it out beside him. He then lifted Robin and laid him down on it. He crossed Robin's hands over his heart. John blinked back tears as he pulled the edges of the blanket up until they met in the middle. 

Tuck, who had finally left Marion to her private grief, stood and watched. Knowing what he must do, he sighed and knelt down beside his young leader and began to stitch up the blanket. It would be Robin's shroud.

John stayed with Tuck to hold the blanket closed while the friar worked. No one else could bring themselves to watch. Marion continued to sit by the stream. Her eyes were long since dry. There were no tears left to shed. Her heart was empty. She would have given anything to empty her mind as well.

Tuck looked at Robin's face--for the last time. "Herne protect you, Robin, wherever you may be," he said somberly. Robin was so young and so good. It just wasn't right that this should have happened. Not only would they all miss Robin, but Tuck knew that once he finished sewing the blanket and they buried him, it would be the end of the outlaws' life in Sherwood. It would all be finished--for good this time. Herne would choose no more sons. Robin Hood would pass into legend. 

"Herne protect you," John echoed in an equally somber tone.

"Should we take him to Huntingdon?" Tuck asked. "His father will want him there beside his mother."

John shook his head. "He lived and died as Robin Hood here in Sherwood. This is where he belongs. We'll get word to the Earl."

Tuck nodded his agreement. Just as the friar pushed the needle in to finish sewing the last few inches of the woolen blanket, a blue mist began to form a few feet away. 

Much, as before, was the first to see it. "Havarta," he called out just as she stepped forward.

The raven-haired woman looked down at Robin sadly. "I'm too late," she whispered.

"_You!_" Will snarled. "Twice you've come here, and twice Robin's died. We don't want you here."

"I understand your anger, but I had nothing to do with this."

"Just go away," John begged. "Will's right. We don't want you here."

Tuck looked puzzled. "Why did you say you were too late?"

"Because of what happened last time, I went to...the one who sent me and asked if he would grant your alternate reward."

"Alternate reward?" John questioned. He narrowed his eyes as he regarded this woman. What was she talking about?

Nasir spoke up. "To prevent Robin from dying," he stated, his voice flat.

Will really got hot then. He walked up to Havarta. "Well, you screwed this one up, too, didn't you? Robin's dead. Loxley's gone for good. Lady, you need to go into another line of work." He was barely keeping his rage in check. 

Tuck, ever the voice of reason, said, "Take it easy, Will." To Havarta he said, "Why are you here?"

Will didn't give her a chance to answer. "To offer us a chance to get Robin back, of course." he spat with sarcasm.

"That's exactly what I'm going to offer you." She waited for the reaction.

"Just how are you going to do it this time?" Will demanded to know.

"He can be returned to you, but do you remember what I told you before about how it works?"

"When one comes back, another must go," Tuck said.

"Yes."

"I'll go," Nasir volunteered. It was the only way that the Saracen could begin to make up for his failure to protect his friend. 

He had hoped he was wrong about Robin's fate, had in fact, begun to believe that maybe he had been wrong. Instead of examining what he felt was true, he had tried to push it away and convince himself all would be well. So, in the end, he had done nothing, and Robin had died. Now, he could make it right. He owed Robin that. He owed them all that.

Marion, who had come up behind Nasir, walked into the midst of the group. "I heard what you said," she told Havarta coolly. She didn't like this woman, though she didn't doubt her word to bring Robin back to them. "I love Robin. I'll gladly go in his place."

"No, Marion," John protested. "That's exactly why you can't do it. If you aren't here when he comes back, his heart will be broken just like yours is now. He'd have to live with the guilt that it was because of him that you were gone. You can't do that to him."

Marion lowered her head. She knew John was right. She couldn't stand to think of Robin mourning her the way she had just mourned him. It was too much pain to bear. It had very nearly cost her her sanity.

"I can do it," Much said. "You all should be here. I'm not really needed."

Marion smiled at him. "That isn't true, Much. We do need you. So does Robin." 

Havarta looked at the outlaws one at a time. "You each want to sacrifice yourself for him."

"That seems to surprise you," Will remarked.

"When I came before, I said that Robin loved you all so much, and the feeling wasn't returned. I was wrong."

"Yes, you were," John confirmed pointedly.

Havarta nodded. "You all obviously love Robin very much. He's very lucky to have such friends."

"So, who goes?" Tuck asked, bringing everyone back to the dilemma at hand.

Havarta smiled warmly. Will misread the smile and was about to make a comment on her lack of sympathy for their situation, when she said, "There's another."

"Another what?" Much asked, totally confused. The others weren't far behind in that thought.

Havarta pointed to the underbrush. It was the spot where Nasir had shot whoever it was who had shot Robin. "The killer is still alive, though barely."

"I'll get him!" Will shouted. "I'll drag him out here." He started to run to the spot.

"No!" Havarta said forcefully, stopping Will in his tracks. "Don't touch him."

"Why not?" Tuck asked.

Havarta looked at Will. "If you move him, he may die. Once dead, he'll be no good to Robin."

"That animal _killed _Robin," Will said as the last of his patience ran out. "But, if you don't want me to touch him, I won't touch him. Just do whatever you have to do, and bring Robin back!" 

Much looked worriedly at Havarta. "He won't come back like my brother did before, will he?" Much still felt bad that Loxley hadn't been able to be returned to them as the man he was. The idea that Robin might show up the same way and also have to be sent back was too much to endure. 

"No. That problem has been... solved," she assured the young man, who smiled happily at her answer.

None of them were surprised when the woman vanished into the blue mist as they had seen her do before. She returned shortly. "It's done."

Every single one of the outlaws looked expectantly toward where Robin lay in the blanket. Havarta shook her head. "It'll take a little while."

"I don't understand," Marion said. "The last time it took only a few minutes."

"Before, when Robin was killed, the event was wiped away, as if it had never happened. This time, Robin's death wasn't the result of a supernatural occurrence and can't be wiped away. He's in another realm, and someone else is simply replacing him there.."

"As long as he comes back to us the way he was, I don't care," Marion declared. "We'll take care of him."

"I have no doubt," Havarta said. 

"I have one question," Tuck said. "You told us before that the realm where Robin would go was full of wondrous things and he would have a good, happy life there." When Havarta nodded, he asked, "The man who is taking his place is a murderer. Why should he go to a place like that?"

"Fair question," Havarta acknowledged. "Unfortunately, that's one of the drawbacks of this kind of exchange. Not everyone who goes there deserves to be there. He won't be punished the way he should be, but he also won't be able to enjoy all the wonderful things that world has to offer. Also, he won't be able to cause any harm. That's the best that can be done." Havarta had an apologetic expression on her face. 

That explanation wasn't what the outlaws hoped for. They wanted the killer to suffer as much as they had. But, Robin was coming back, and that was really all that mattered.

Havarta had come here to give them the news that Robin would be spared only to find the reward had been granted too late. Now, it was all working out right. Havarta smiled. "I won't come again," she told the outlaws. "Your lives now will take their normal course. I hope you each find what you seek." With that, she vanished into the blue mist that awaited her.

She didn't hear Will yell after her, "Goodbye! We can take it from here."

John walked straight over to Robin. He knelt down, grabbed the blanket and pulled the seam apart, ripping out all the stitches. He uncrossed Robin's arms and put them down by his side, then he sat down to wait for Robin to wake up. Marion came and sat on the other side, taking Robin's quickly warming hand in hers. She smiled to see his color was also returning. 

Soon they were joined by all of the outlaws. Nasir heaved a big sigh as he sat down at Robin's feet. Despite the happy ending, he would forever feel guilty for his part in all of this. Robin would come back to them, but they all, especially Marion, had suffered terribly. He vowed he would always be extra vigilant to try to keep Robin safe.

* * * * * * * * * *

Epilogue

Half an hour later, with his friends and the woman he loved around him, Robin woke up. His vision was fuzzy at first. Gradually, Marion's face came into sharp focus. She was smiling down at him. He thought he was looking at her the way he had last seen her before he died. Died? That didn't make sense. He couldn't quite grasp it. He frowned in puzzlement.

"Robin," Marion said as she kissed the palm of his hand and then put it against her cheek.

"I was sure I was dying," he said somewhat groggily. "I must have passed out." He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. "I guess I had some kind of dream. I was in a place I can't begin to describe. It was so _real_ and so strange--fascinating really, but strange." He motioned for John to help him sit up. He suddenly realized he was no longer in the agonizing pain he remembered. "My bcck and my chest don't hurt anymore. That's strange, too. I was shot, wasn't I? This is all so confusing." There was a look of utter bewilderment on his face. 

Marion laughed as all of Robin's muddled thoughts came tumbling out. "We can talk about all of that later," Marion told him. She leaned down. "I love you," she said emphaatically. She rose up on her knees, leanded over and kissed him passionately, to the ooohs and knowing looks of their friends. That kiss left no doubt in anyone's mind, especially Robin's, just how Marion truly felt. When she raised her head this time, Robin's eyes were still open, and he was looking lovingly back at her. 

There were bright smiles all around, but none was brighter than Nasir's.


End file.
